Don’t run nine miles after hitting yourself in the knee with a mallet

So this morning was fairly typical of a Sunday. We slept in. Jamie got me breakfast, I read the paper. We failed to have sex.

Mother phoned, apparently she found (well she didn’t) an old 110V yellow transformer in her garage and asked if I wanted it. If not she says it’s worth about forty quid and she would sell it. Well that would just about cover the cost of some hideous box she just bought to stick books in. If she wants to buy a box, then why not get a body shaped one with handles. I didn’t reply, it’s Sunday, she got a few hours of my attention yesterday, about the same amount of time she gave me when I was five.

I then got up and fitted a new letter box to the front door. Thinking about it, why would you fit one anywhere else. Then I ripped up all the remaining hall carpet and binned it. Goodbye to a hundred quids worth of carpet tiles. I then got my chisels out. After watching a couple of videos about laminate flooring I decided to knock out a few bits around the door frames so the flooring can go under it. This should hopefully produce a better finish than trying to butt it up to the edges. Had lunch, boiled eggs. Jamie’s dad came round, was quite indifferent. I continued with the chiselling and managed to whack myself in the knee with the mallet. I picked up the dog poo.

I then decided as I was feeling more bloated than a hot air balloon it would be a great idea to go to the gym. Hour and twenty minutes on a treadmill. I can no longer walk.

Sat down and down the rough edit on my knew video (well it’s actually our new video as it has Jamie in it as well). That’s ready for the second stage of editing now. Think I’ll have a bath and then get the food on. A fun day, I’m glad I made the effort and got to the gym, feel slightly less fat now.

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